Gluttony
by ThirteenthStruggle
Summary: What can one do to resist the apocalypse? - Inspired by a story I once read; Read and Review. One-shot.


"_Do not join those who drink too much wine or gorge themselves on meat, for drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in rags.__" –Proverbs_

Christopher took his sister by the hand; the other hand, and led her through an alley-way. He glanced at her other appendage and felt his gorge rise in his mouth. From the wrist down was a mulched bleeding mass of dark meat, with a single finger dangling by a strip of flesh. The look on her face put steel in his spine, resolve to lead her through the madness.

"Please, don't scream...Don't..." He moaned to his sister. She gave him a glazed look and he saw in her eyes the lack of comprehension, the confusion wrought upon her tortured mind.

A man had tackled her to the ground and managed to grab her wrist. He had chewed through to the bones within several seconds. Luckily Christopher had pushed him to the ground. A few (dozen) stomps to the head had ceased all signs of movement.

_'What the hell?'_ Chris thought to himself.

He strode purposely towards the car they had parked on the other side of the alley. A scream rang out from further down the street where a child was in the same position his sister had just been in; three men slamming it to the ground. Chris hesitated, torn between his sister and the innate urge to help the young one. When chunks of flesh started to appear, he got in the car.

As Chris and his sister drove away, the screams petered out.

-----------

The car died within several blocks. Chris cursed and got out. He helped his sister to lurch out of the car and began looking around for any signs of help; maybe a hospital or some sort of clinic? _'There!'_ Chris thought happily to himself. An abandoned General Practitioner's Office loomed across the street. He smashed in the window and began looking around for some sort of supply.

Meanwhile, his sister sank to the ground in agony. She was growing paler and paler by the second. Fresh tears ran from her face only to patter on the ground. Chris knelt next to her.

_"It'll be okay, I promise. Don't cry. I know it hurts."_ Famous last words. From outside, a low moan was followed by the odd shuffling noise made by the...things...whenever they walked. Chris noticed his sister getting set for a scream and jumped at her. He placed his hand over her mouth, muffling the scream before it could start.

She thrashed and fought, possessed by some unnatural strength. Chris slipped for just a moment and her mouth opened enough to let out the scream, followed by her teeth crunching into his fingers. Chris let out a roar and threw her across the room, into a wall. There she sat, motionless and eyes closed. A feeling of dread slid down Chris' spine and he asked uncertainly.  
_  
"Sis...? Are you okay?"_ His quavering voice rang in the still room.

Her eyes shot open, a far foggier color than the brown they had worn her entire life. She glanced about her environment quickly, almost violently, before her eyes settled on Chris. He couldn't do anything but stare back at her.

Of course, Chris jumped slightly when she let out a scream. He had no idea that it had nothing to do with the pain she _must've_ felt in her hand. He figured it out fairly quickly when she jumped across the room and buried her mouth in his shoulder. The pain burst through his system even while instinct forced her head up and away from him.

Oh yes, she thrashed. The taste of blood was all-consuming and she wanted, _needed_ more. Her fingernails tore into his retinas with vicious abandon. The nails she carefully groomed, each and every day ran red with her brother's blood. The pain was too much for Chris; he involuntarily drew his hands back to cover his eyes. That was enough of an opening for her.

She bit deeply with lightning quickness. His trachea tore away from his neck under the assault, to be swallowed by Chris' ravenous sister. Gurgled protests and screams of agony filtered through the ragged hole. But he could no longer continue the fight. His arms flopped uselessly to the side. Nerves hammered his dying brain with impulses, overwhelming urges to fight off the monster slowly devouring him.

But he couldn't continue the fight.

She took her time about finishing him, enjoying every sweet drop of his blood. The gurgles and moans erupting from his neck slowed and stopped without the air to form. As Chris slowly passed into the world of the dead, he thought he heard his sister's voice one last time.

Laughing at him from beyond the grave.


End file.
